Together: Honor and Arms -Explicit
by sopranish
Summary: "I will decide what I should be doing." Castiel shows Dean that he is strong enough to make his own choices, and his choice is Dean; they are in it together. [Explicit] A/N: Original idea: Anything between Dean and Castiel would be innately masculine and powerful. And intense. "Honor and Arms" is a bass aria from the oratorio Samson by G. F. Handel


Castiel carried Sam to his room in an instant and without a word as Dean walked slowly from where he'd hidden the Imapala. Dean shuffled in, cursing Sam under his breath for not telling him about this sooner. The trials were making him weak and Dean hadn't been strong enough to take it on instead. Cas had been there the moment Dean called out for help, and now Cas was the one carrying his little brother.

Dean got to Sam's room just in time see Cas placing two fingers on Sam's forehead where he lie on the bed. Immediately his clenching muscles loosened, and he clearly fell asleep. Castiel turned, unsurprised to see Dean watching him.

"He'll sleep for about 12 hours. Then his pain should be subdued enough to find out more about what this is doing to him." Dean nodded, trying and failing to keep his face passive. But before he could move too far in trying to walk away, Castiel was standing directly in front of him, hands on Dean's shoulders.

"Dean, this isn't your fault- he didn't tell you. Sam took on the trials, and we'll make sure he finishes them in one piece." At 'we', Dean looked up. He couldn't think of a time Cas had ever talked about them sharing a burden, and not just helping Dean with his. He shook his head, unwilling to let himself get like Sam over things like that.

"Cas, you've got better things to do than always being here to get me out of a screw up. And I swear I'm going to beat down whatever did this to him. I should be doing—" before Dean could get out another syllable, Castiel's lips were on his, insistent and warm and claiming. Dean should have be shocked at how good it felt, should have struggled more. But he couldn't find the energy to pretend to fight it. Instead he fought only for control, claiming Cas's lips and tongue, digging into his arms and cheekbones with still-dirty fingers. He could have been clawing at a stone, until Cas suddenly pinned him against the door frame, eyes boring into him with a look full of pity, love, and an intensity so complete it was nearly anger.

"I am older and more powerful than your entire artistic creation of a species, and half the beings we've fought. I will decide what I should be doing," Cas husked. And with that sealed his lips to Deans once more…

Now, in his room, Dean sits at the foot of his bed, and takes in the overwhelming sight in front of him. Castiel, holy and powerful, kneeling on the ground between Dean's legs. His trenchcoat and jacket thrown easily over the chair, tie left somewhere behind. His sleeves haphazardly pushed up- which, considering he's always so damn covered up, would have been beyond enticing on its own. And his collar unbuttoned down his chest. Like a statue of limestone and fire, his fair skin unbroken from his face down his throat and slim but powerful chest.

And his face as fierce as the armies of Heaven as he looks down at Dean's legs- eyebrows raised and eyes lowered in consideration- then raises his eyes to stare back at Dean, grabbing his thighs hard. Dean sucks in a surprised gasp. Castiel's face is almost challenging as he leans up, and with one hand on the back of Dean's head, drags him into a hard kiss. It deepens quickly, Castiel's tongue strong and filling Dean's mouth as he pulls them impossibly closer together. Dean finds himself nearly melting in the face of it all- if Cas really is a virgin apparently he's at least learned to loosen up. Dean feels the soft fullness of Cas's lips, the rasp of stubble- the masculinity of it is at once familiar, and alien in this setting- and his own aching hardness tight against Cas's chest- and nearly comes undone right then. He shivers in spite of himself.

The next thing he knows Castiel is moving, intentionally rubbing against Dean as he stands to full height. He towers over Dean now, looking down at him with a look of dedication and possessiveness Dean hasn't seen since he held off an Archangel. Castiel holds Dean's eyes as he slowly unbuttons his shirt the rest of the way. Dean can't get his clothes off fast enough, and can't help giving himself some friction as he watches the unearthly show.

His shirt gone, Castiel kneels once again, smirking at how Dean flushes all over, his lips parted and panting. Locking his eyes on Dean's once again, he wraps his lips around Dean's tip without hesitation. Tongue circling, he takes more of him in, sucking hard, Dean falls back on one arm, head tilted back in shocked pleasure. Slowly Cas licks back up, only to swallow him whole once again- reveling in overwhelming Dean even by what would be an act of submission by anyone else. Dean's head tries to come up to stare, then falls back again. He gasps, "Cas," as his other hand runs through and grabs at Castiel's thick hair. But instead of pulling him down harder, he pulls him up to meet him in another furious kiss, full of all the passion, all the fear, all the need, and all the damn awe he'd kept clamped inside.

He grabs Castiel everywhere he can, clawing at the deceptively slim shoulders and perfectly pliant waist. Slipping his hands over Cas's pants to dig into the ass created by God for this moment, and around to where Cas is impressively, satisfyingly hard. Castiel climbs up Dean until he is completely covering him, hovering as he deftly undoes his belt and slides off his last stitches of clothing.

Dean's eyes rake over as much of Cas as he can take in, until Castiel is lowering himself fully on top of dean, their heavy erections next to each other. Dean can't stop from grinding into the feeling, the warm hardness and friction of Castiel. Castiel's eyes screw shut and he gasps, but the smile is wiped off Dean's face as he grinds down even harder. Suddenly Dean can't remember how he doubted Cas could even do this.

Suddenly Cas is rearing back, pushing their bodies together even harder. He slides down until Dean's legs are spread around him, and carefully places each of Dean's feet on the bed. Dean is suddenly terrified, but it dissipates as he feels a hand covered in something slick and warm- clearly magicked into being- trace down past his aching hardness, to the tight muscles below Dean never really expected to have touched this way. Somehow it feels too right, and all he can do is reach down and let himself take Cas in his hand for the first time. The feeling of it- the surprising weight and warmth, the smoothness of the skin; the look of the pearly fluid when he traces his fingers over the tip- is nearly too much.

It's Cas's turn to look flushed and bite at his own kiss-mussed lips. And he must be magicking more than Dean realized, because with no pain, Dean feels himself stretched open, fingers inside him pulling and curling in ways he didn't know were possible. Then Cas hits the perfect spot, and Dean can't wait anymore.

"Cas, if you're going to do this…now… Please." He mourns the loss of Cas's fingers, but not for long.

Castiel leans forward, pushing Dean's legs farther. He lifts Dean's head to meet him in a wet kiss as he lines himself up, and pushes in completely in one long, slow thrust. Dean's never felt anything like it. Never felt anything so right. Castiel can barely hang on from the intensity of the feeling. Of Dean warm and tight around his sensitive flesh, of his mind and soul reaching out to him. he pulls out nearly all the way, only to push back in as hard as he can. With a yell he does it again, hands now roaming and holding Dean wherever he can, clutching and claiming. Dean hangs around Cas's neck, runs his hands up his arms and through his hair as Castiel thrusts into him again and again. Sometimes shallow and easy, sometimes with enough force to remind Dean that he is no human man.

Dean can't help reaching down and stroking himself, too close to stop. But Castiel grasps his hands and holds them out against the bed, their fingers interlocked, palms held fast in promise. That's when Dean can feel it- edges buzzing with power, an energy crackling around him. Suddenly memories flood his mind- a barn full of electricity and terror and shockingly warm recognition- a sudden healing on a field - an energy out of place in Purgatory- and, finally, that same energy surrounding and remaking him in Hell, dragging him by his shoulder and his very soul toward Castiel's will. It is Castiel's grace he's feeling. Castiel's eyes are shining and burning with it, and Dean knows Castiel sees him feeling it.

Castiel's rolls his hips deep, hitting that place in Dean that renders him speechless. His thrusts get harder and fiercer, fast and punishing at that spot. He can't stop. He releases one of Dean's hands to grab at the shoulder he gave his own marking in Hell, raising Dean's whole hips with the force of his thrusts. With a mighty yell Dean grabs at Castiel's shoulder and comes, nearly untouched. He keeps coming, hard, clenching and gripping around Cas even tighter as he does. And before Dean has finished coming Castiel can't hold back. He grips Dean with all of his body, and the lights spark and explode as Castiel empties himself completely into Dean.

Castiel collapses on top of Dean, and neither bother to try to let go or move in any way. Dean can hardly to catch his breath, and Castiel is shocked to find himself panting so hard. All he can do is turn his head and kiss Dean once again. Not soft and sated, but equal to the firm and passionate set of Dean's mouth; hard and full of meaning and truth: They are made of enough power and passion to get through anything. And are in this, all of it, together.


End file.
